Friday, October 31, 2008

Yo... lately the Metro letters section has been giving me mad fodder for blogging... or rather the morons who write to the Metro give me fodder. God bless shallow ass gene pools...

This election is about us vs. them

A vote for Obama, the wannabe messiah is a vote for the destruction of the America and its Constitution that mt family fought and died for and yours and a huge transfer of wealth from us to themJoyce Epperston

**Readers, please note that the lack of syntax, subject -verb agreement, proper punctuation and general coherence is not my mistake... this is what the 'bright crayon in the box' reader of the Metro actually wrote. I commend the Metroon not editing this letter... I love to mock other people's obvious stupidity. **

For those of you not wishing to have to decipher the above letter, allow me to do it for you.

*ahem.. mi mi mi mi mi...inhales*Voting for Obama means that you hate America and that you are a commie bastard.

Signed, McCarthyist Elitist F*cktard

Do I really want to spend the time ripping this dipshit a new one? Well, if it weren't for the fact that today was the Phillies Parade, its Halloween, its Friday and I've been partying at work all day... I would. But I just don't care enough.

All I will say is that people like this need to gather themselves on a small island in the middle of the ocean and eat each other for sustenance. Cause you know, they're to be all about survival of the fittest. You know... progressive taxes and social welfare programs are just against all that is holy-- but we the strong will eat the weak.Cause that's the way the Bible says its supposed to be. I want to keep my family's ill gotten slave trade/war profiteering/stock market gouging wealth for my children. Who will never know hard work, because I accumulated wealth for them. Put the poor's children need to work. Hand outs only breed lazines... in everyone except my kids.

Yeah, up, she needs to drink a big cup of Sit the FUCK DOWN and SHUT THE FUCK UP. Stat.

Wednesday, October 29, 2008

As I was taking my morning ride from Jersey to Philadelphia, I saw something in the Metro that completely enraged me. So much so, that I actually made a calendar appointment for myself to blog it. This is something I never do. While thumbing through the Election ’08 section, I saw this:

Readers’ lettersMedia ignoring other candidates“The press has refused the proper view of candidates who are offering to America and get the power-hungry two major parties out. I am voting for Ralph Nader**, and 100 million non-partisan voters may also vote Nader. You, the media, owe the truth. There are six on the ballot.”E.O. Ellis, Massachusetts** I swear it took everything in me not to VOMIT while typing those words.

Now, I don’t have anything against Ralph Nader… except for the fact that he might be able to be accused of being a purposeful spoiler in the 2000 Presidential (S)Election of Bush over Gore. Outside of that, I actually like a lot of his policy ideas. He could probably make an excellent Commander-In-Chief… if he had a snowball’s chance in Hell of getting elected. Which he doesn’t. And this is why people who are going to vote for Nader enrage the hell out of me. Here are the reasons I think people who are going to Vote for Nader, are pretentious sacks of shit. I will start with the above letter as a reference point and spit venom from there

1. Nader didn’t run a national campaign. He never had rallies, press conferences, went to ball games, kissed babies, shook hands, none of it. At least, not on a national scale. Not even a regional scale. That renders this statement: “The press has refused the proper view of candidates who are offering to restore America and get the power-hungry two major parties out.” as complete BUPKISS. If he was truly running for President of the United States, he would have done things on the NATIONAL scale. He would have demanded to be invited to the debates. He would have launched a grassroots (as opposed to a viral) campaign. Hell, even crazy chicken man Ross Perot did that at least. Consequently, he got national coverage. Therefore, this sentence earns E.O. from Ellis, MA a SIT THE FUCK DOWN AND SHUT THE FUCK UP Award.

2. “I am voting for Ralph Nader” Why? Like I said, while Nader is great and has great ideas for change, HE HASN’T GOT A SNOWBALLS CHANCE IN HELL OF WINNING THE GENERAL ELECTION. Even if every registered independent voted for him instead of one of the major party candidates, it still wouldn’t amount to a significant enough number to swing the election his way. So what exactly is your purpose for Voting Nader? Is it a protest vote? Is it a vote on principle? Are you just a pompous dipshit who clings hopelessly to their “high minded individuality”? Give me a fucking break. Your protest vote isn’t going to do anything except take a vote away from candidates who actually have a chance of winning this election and changing the national political scene (trying to be non-partisan here but… OBAMA/ BIDEN ’08!). For all that non-sense, you might as well just stay your silly ass at home and stop clogging up the line for people who really want to vote for change. (Coincidentally, a lot of Nader’s ideas are strikingly similar to the candidate whose name rhymes with yo mama)

4. “You, the media, owe the truth. There are six on the ballot.” I don’t know which of these sentences is more preposterous. The statement that the media owes the truth(HA!) or that there are four other presidential candidates that people have actually heard of and care about and have chance of WINNING on the ballot. The media owes truth in theory. However, since they are owned by people who have their own politically skewed views, believing that the media will tell you the complete truth is as naïve as believing that life is fair, or that Santa Claus exists, or that I wouldn’t want to put my foot up the narrow behind of the person who wrote this letter. It also signals to me that people like this are smoke-screening their passive complacency by appearing to be an activist/truth-seeker. If they were really concerned about truth in the media and/or getting the word out there about these candidates, then they would do something more proactive like submitting and op-ed, starting online periodicals or getting out there and speaking their truth. THESE people like make my ass twitch.

If you are one of these mo-mos who plans to vote for Nader, do us ALL a favor and just stay home on Nov. 4th. Please understand that the shenanigans that Nader Voters facilitated in 2000 have not been forgotten. Moreover, if similar tomfoolery happens THIS TIME, the backlash could be nothing short of the country imploding. Also, you might get ONED waiting in line to vote if you don't. Cause you know y'all are just so fucking proud to be voting for Nader, that you will reek of pretention and self-righteousness. And we all know how much people like that are loved.

Sunday, October 26, 2008

...I bailed. Like a rat deserting a sinking ship...I made up a lame ass excuse and instead of going to that party I didn't want to go to, I took my ass to the gym. I'm a bad friend. But I feel good about getting my work out on. Comme ci, comme ca. Oh well.

Tuesday, October 21, 2008

So tomorrow I am committed to go to birthday party for a local black talk radio show host. The reason I am going is because my co-worker/friend really wants to go. She's somewhat self conscious and not very outgoing with people she doesn't know, so she is taking me and some other ladies as her posse. Cool. I have no problem with doing this (other than the fact that I haven't worked out since Sunday and I'm getting angry with myself, because I really should go to the gym instead).

I am, however, ambiguous about attending this event. I guess, what it comes down to is this...this venue is going to be crawling with young, educated, professional uppity ass Black people.... andUppity BUPPIES make my ass tired. You may be asking what in the hell that is... you might be nodding your head in agreement... or you might be getting a little pissed at me for calling you out (in which case, just KILL yourself now, because no one will care, you Uppity Ass Muthaf**ker.)

Uppity BUPPIES (Black Urban Professionals) are comprised of two groups. Diva dudes (c) VerySmartBrothas and the broads who are vying for their attention (read: throwing their panties at these bitchass dudes).

I am always apprehensive about hanging out with BUPPIES because, while I technically fall into the group, I generally don't like being around these people. They constantly profile, don't mingle outside their group (unless its to approach the most baggable looking member of the opposite sex, purely for the benefit of your peer group) and are generally unfriendly. Moreover, they reek of ego, pretention and hateration. Yeah, why willingly subject yourself to these people?

Now, not all BUPPIES fall into the Uppity category. Hell, I'm not uppity and neither are my friends. We go out with the intention of having a good time, profiling be damned. But its hard to really cut loose when you feel like everyone else is just... not feeling the vibe. Sucking their teeth, rolling their eyes, holding their drinks just so.... GAWD, get OVER YOURSELVES ALREADY. You ain't that fly. Sorry, but you're not. Now get your ass out here and shake a tail feather like you got some sense! Smile and look like you are a nice person trying to have a good time. Humor me!

*sigh* sometimes i hate being a good friend. i really want to bail. REALLY. I still might... maybe I can contract a little head cold by tomorrow night, or something. If I go, I'm going to need a really strong drink mellow me out.Otherwise i'll just come home mad. And since its my hubbie's birthday, I really would rather not come home with an attitude.

*Happy Birthday to the man that has the perfect beats for my lyrics, is the sun to my moon, and spins me like his favorite record. I love you, Baby*

Thursday, October 02, 2008

The title of this entry is what Albert lane dressed in drag as Mrs. Coleman said about the topic of killing abortion doctors. He suggested killing the mothers to stop them from trying to get abortions instead. He and his partner were trying to impress their son's future in-laws, conservative Sentator Kevin Keely and his wife.

S(he) was going to extremes and not really knowing what she was talking about with abortion, because she was drenched in her role as a 'woman' who was essentially sauced on too much wine at dinner.

Well, I'm not sure if she was sauced tonight, but I would have been if I took a shot of the Crown** if every time Sarah Palin said or did one of the following

-Maverick-Washington Outsider-'Well, ya know...'-Hockey/soccer mom-Mentioned her 'diverse' family and friends to justify her answers-changed the topic to something she felt prepared to answer, rather than answering the ACTUAL ISSUE presented by the MODERATOR-shifted the issue back to something after it was clear the moderator had moved on-said "I agree with you Joe/Senator Biden"-got a bit snarkier than necessary-Mentioned Wasilla-made a low blow "I have ALWAYS been proud to be an American."

So I want people to riddle me this.... who won tonight?

*psssst.... come here. no, closer. i have a secret. the answer rhymes with snow fiden'*

P.S. I KNOW that Biden was holding back to be fair to her. He could have ripped her a new one. I really wish he would have. REALLY.

**I was supposed to be at a watching party getting sloshed while following the Watching Rules. Crown Royal is my liquor of choice in these matters. Matters meaning when I just want to get good and liquored up.

Wednesday, October 01, 2008

So I was on Very Smart Brothas today and the topic was centered around being sprung. For those of you who don't know, I will give you a definition (*not dictionary.com or anything... this is PURE gospel from the mouth of the Sweet One herself

Sprung adj.- when you have had some *aherm* SOOOOO INCREDIBLY GOOD you go to the brink of damn near insanity doing any and everything to get more. It has you so far off kelter that you overlook your normal "relationship dealbreakers" just so you can have access to that good shit. It also has one or both of you spending exorbitant amounts of resources (be it money, time, or your best friend's credibility**) for another hit. Even after you come to your senses and end it (if necessary) you still reminisce and the memories threaten to destroy (or at the very least make you question a TEENSY bit) what you have with your current sexual relations partner (in my case, my husband-- even though he is QUITE talented).

** this is expounded upon in the the following memory... I don't think she's forgiven me for making her LIE to MY MOTHER**

I didn't want to do it, but I will share my SPRUNG story. Let me preface this (though I usually hate qualifying shit) by saying that this person isn't the only one to have me some kind of sprung. Shit, if my hubby didn't have me sprung, ya think I woulda married him? HELLS NO. But THIS fellow..... GATDAMN! My man better work it tonight because... sheeeeit.... *strained breathing*

Gather 'round the story mat... Its time for the Tale of Trans-Atlantic Booty.

Alright, so for my friends who DON'T know that THIS happened, y'all can't forget that I was and still am Queen of the Creep.

It was junior year of college when I met Spiros (his name ALONE... DAMN). To let you know exactly where my interest lay in regards to this man, I vaguely remember that he was a grad student, though I can't tell you which program he was in. The fabulousness of what happened just made me forget that. Its not important anyway.

Spiros was in the U.S. on a student visa from Greece studying... whatever. I met him and his roomate Ryan through one of my BFFs (not the one I made lie to my mom... I'll get to that in a minute). Spiros was sweet, chivalrous and F**KING GORGEOUS. You know the whole Greek Adonis thing... but he totally didn't know he was hot...and that made him hotter. What made him SMOKIN was that he liked li'l ol' me.

We would hang out in the student union, playing pool after dinner when we should have been studying. He was amazingly good at pool and taught me everything I know. People wonder why I kick ass at 8 Ball... he is the reason.

So of course, teaching one how to properly hold the cue stick, line up shots, do trick shots etc. allows for plenty of bodily contact. I cannot tell you how badly I just wanted to throw his ass on the pool table and "do things" right there. But alas, I was not nearly as adventurous then as I am now.

Okay... now to the good stuff. The first time it happened was completely by accident. It was finals week and I had my Anthropology (fufilling a requirement of some sort) final. Said final was my first one before my hard as balls ones for my major classes, so I spent all my time prepping for those and forgot about this one. Lucky for me, Ryan was a TA in that department and had seen the exam. He wasn't going to let me cheat, but he was going to give me 'pointers' on what I should re read.Ryan offered to let me come over to his and Spiros' apt to help me study. So I went... not looking that cute because, well, it was FINALS. I get to the apt and Ryan isn't there. Apparently, he had to run to the store. That left me and Spiros by our lonesome. We started talking about finals and how much we both had to study blah blah and he offered me a back rub. Shit, he was in like flynn after that. It was a quickie, but DAMN it was a goodie. He had me seeing abstract colors and shapes, speaking words I didn't know I could, alla dat. I decided right then and there that I needed more of this NOW.

For the rest of spring semester, he and I would hook up on the low. Now you should know that hooking up at a PWI when you are Queen of the Creep involves not only being stealthy, but convincing your partner that while the thought is sweet, DON'T send me little notes through campus mail (all my peoples worked at the service center) or act like you like or even know me. Our 'pool lessons' had to stop. I think Ryan found out and was pissed about it, because I think he liked me too.

Well tragedy occurred. Spiros finished his program, graduated and was going back to Greece that summer. I would have to go through my senior year without THAT. Our "last" night together I literally CRIED the entire time. Besides the fact that he brought on the ALL STAR performance, I was going to miss him... and what he could do!

When he saw how upset I was, he held me and then he had a brainstorm. Why don't I come visit him for the summer? I thought this was a GREAT idea! I wanted to do it. PROBLEM... I was supposed to be going to Spain for the summer with my best friend. He was like, go to Spain and then come to Greece. Its a cheap flight and short! So that is EXACTLY what the Sweet One did. I went to Spain with my girl and then told her I was going to make a quick puddle jump to Greece. She knew about my debauchery and was all for it. **enter jeopardzing credibility** Well, during my first 2 day jaunt, my mother called my friend, er, me. She had wanted to talk to me, because she got a credit alert that my card had been used to purchase another plane ticket. My friend LIED TO MY MOTHER for me and told her we were planning to jump to Greece for a short trip.

MOM: "Where is she?"BFF: "Oh she's still down on the Plaza Mayor. I'll have her call you back."BFF to ME (in the middle of 'it' with Spiros): "Girl, call your mother NOW. She's got questions about your dumb ass charging that ticket you used to get your Grecian swirl on!"ME: "Shit! Well, he asked me to come back again. I'll call her... back up whatever story I come up with."BFF: "You know, God hates you right now... the D betta be worth it." *click*

And that was the beginning....

After I graduated from college (without Spiros, senior year was-- meh), there was a brief 3 week period before I started my tenure with Teach for America. I spent those weeks GETTIN IT IN, in Greece... on his bill. Turned out he got a bomb job, but decided to continue to live at his grandparents house and save money. We came up with an arrangement and for about a year and a half, every other month I would take a long weekend (once a month if there was an ACTUAL school holiday in between my 'scheduled trips') and fly over the big blue to get the pipe properly laid. The alternate months, he would come to the U.S. and I wouldn't leave my apt for 2 days.

Well, this bliss had to end. We were burning up cash and although the booty was good (DAMN GOOD), that was all we really did with each other. We kinda had a really anti-climactic end. We had been talking about trying to make our 'thing' into a real relationship. We even tried for a spell. It wasn't gonna happen. LDR's are hard. Really hard. Throw an ocean and several time zones into the mix. The only times we talked on the phone were to schedule and coordinate trips and then to reminisce about what we had just done. He was really smart, really sweet and was going to make someone a great boyfriend... but it wasn't going to be me. Not for a lack of trying though. I kinda thought I was in love with him. Maybe I was.... or maybe it was just the D.